


This Love

by OnceUponaFangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:28:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnceUponaFangirl/pseuds/OnceUponaFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A persons true feelings come out in the middle of the night - and Emma Swan is no exception.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Love

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Another fic from Tumblr. Shoutout to Sara for helping me write this. I seriously couldn't write anything without you, my Ao3-less cupcake. Inspired by "This Love" by Taylor Swift (and I suck at titles.) Constructive criticism and reviews are welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Sidenote: Written before "Poor Unfortunate Souls".

Nothing fully registered with her until the aftermath had long been gone and circumstances set in stone. There were still days, while far and few between, that she questioned if she had really found her family. The feeling mostly arises after long days, exhausted from chasing the monsters that lurked within the enclosed town; the fear of loss of life subsiding enough at nighttime for her to breathe. On these days, she comes home awestruck that she has people waiting on her, worried about her, there for her - with a gentle kiss and a warm embrace.

She didn’t sleep on these nights, insomnia brought on by her stream of consciousness that refused to quiet. Instead, she crawled into bed and cuddled into Killian, hoping he wouldn’t see past the facade of sleeping. He usually went along with it regardless of whether or not he believed she was actually asleep (he never did), but sometimes he would take these opportunities to probe his Swan’s mind.  Tonight was no exception.

“What are you thinking about, Love?”

“Nothing.” she replies, turning to her right to face him, his arm pulling her closer.

“Nonsense, I can hear that brilliant brain of yours working overtime.” he whispers opening his eyes to search for her own in the dark of their room. He finds them quickly, his hand on her waist drawing small circles, and it feels like he’s staring into her soul. But, maybe he is. They’ve always had a deep connection, always been able to read the other with such ease it would take her breath away. “Darling, what is it?”

“No it’s really nothing.” she said, giving him a reassuring smile before kissing his chest.”Now go back to sleep.”

He rolls on his back, shooting one last glance of speculation in her direction. Emma lays her head over his heart, wrapping her arm around him and interlacing their fingers together.

She thinks about how he always makes sure she eats, bringing her snacks and meals when he could find her. Earlier that day, she came back to the station to a grilled cheese, resting on microwave waiting to be heated, a note attached reminding her to eat and that he missed her. It was silly, the little notes he’d leave for her throughout the day. Always simple, always sweet, always making her heart soar to heights it’s never reached before. Emma saves them all, putting them in a shoebox under their bed to read on days she needs a quick reminder that he’s here for as long as she wants him - which is forever if she can have it her way.

She moves her head the slightest bit, her eyes tracing over every curve and dip of his face. Memorizing the way he looks in his sleep, innocent and untroubled by the deeds of his past. As if he knows where her mind is going, Killian shifts kissing her forehead and pulling her even closer into his side. She loves the warmth of his body, how one touch can sooth her, anchoring her fears and worries down to safer ground. She loves the contrast of the cool metal of his hook against the palm of her hand, helping to remind her that just as she loves him, with his past self and flaws included, he feels the same way about her; she loves that her insecurities do not matter around him,

She thinks back to when he once tried to pass off Granny’s cooking as his own - the look on his face when she walked into the loft. He’d dimmed the lights, had candles lit all around, with a full meal waiting for them on the table. She remembers the way his eyes danced in the candlelight as he took in every inch of her, the way his lips tilted upwards as he handed her a glass of her favorite wine. Killian pulled out her chair, commenting on how he managed the free the loft for the night. She laughed, thanking him for taking the time to put this together for her. Emma smiles to herself, closing her eyes and nuzzling into him as more memories of the night playback. The way he scratched behind his ear when she asked about how he managed to cook all this by himself. (It’s a nervous tick, the ear scratching,that she finds incredibly adorable and tries to get out of him any chance she can.) She drops it there, letting him think she doesn’t know the truth, letting him take care of her the way she knows he longs to do.

That’s new, having someone want to take care of her. Granted, Emma has two parents who want to, but it’s different. The way he wants to take care of her, to be there for her is different from anyone else. He wants to protect her, to fight her dragons and bandage her scars (no matter how old they may be). It took her a while to let him in, to tear down her walls and let Killian Jones into her heart, to allow someone to put her first. And, God, does he put her first.

He has always let her set the pace, let her decide where this thing between them leads.

Emma tilts her head up again, her nose brushing against his neck, tightening her grip on his hand. Reminding herself of how it feels to be loved by him. To be seen the way he sees her. Like she is the most precious stone he’s ever had the pleasure to hold, but, at the same time, like the wildest storm far out at sea - a force to be reckoned with.

She replays memories of him in her mind, reminding her of why and how much she truly loves him. Killian lets go of her hand so that he can cup the side of her head, pressing a kiss to her temple.  She was never one to speak her feelings, and putting into words feelings she could not comprehend herself was a task that caused more stress than it was worth. Her preferred form of communication being eye and body language that Killian read like an open book.  

“Killian?” Emma speaks, running her fingers across his chest and rising up on her elbow.

“Hm?” he murmurs, opening his eyes again.

“I love you,” she whispers, afraid that if she speaks any louder the moment will pass and she’ll wake up to find none of it was real, that she hadn’t really found love again, happiness that made her heart flutter and mold back from the broken pieces that it once was.

“I love you too, Emma.” he says, gently pressing his lips against her own, smiling when their lips eventually part, pulling her back onto him. “Now get some rest, Love.”

“Okay.” she mumbles, placing another kiss at the curve of his neck and rolling on her side. That night, Emma slept more peacefully than she had in weeks knowing that they solidified their feelings, that she was in love with Captain Hook, Killian Jones, and knew nothing would ever change that. She, they, had found their happy ending - together 


End file.
